This feeling...
Heavy...
Like a wreath bearing down my neck.
Every fibre in me seem to be at loggerheads.

My heart...
Pounding.
Each beat is a hammer
sledging away at my saneness.

My breaths...
Premature and short.
Inconsistent.
I respire full but with punctured lungs.

Who is this Ja
Sean Hunt did ask
So I will tell you
This is my task

He’s a silly little man
Without any hair
His teeth are all gone
But he doesn’t care

He wears tiny glasses
Because he can’t see
They make him look cute
If you ask me

He writes some BOEMS
And thinks he is funny
But that hasn’t made
Him, any money

He writes WIZDUMBs too
And feels he is wise
But he has not yet
Won any prize

He makes up songs
And composes the tune
But won’t be on radio
Any time soon

Ja is that poor
Odd foolish man
Who just runs around
Does what he can

He’s the Polish version
Of that old grandpa
Just in his case
He is the Ja

He is in name
An old Polish, Jadek
I’m spelling it wrong
But what the heck

So there you have it
He’s no one of note
He’s not even famous
He’s just, an old goat
BOEMS BY JA 79

June 17, 2006 was my golden birthday; as it was the year I turned 17.
Senior year was to start in a mere 2 weeks- I’ve already started dreaming of how my life would be.

Curfew extended because I was almost grown…
Prom night dance and tearful graduation hugs..
Youthfulness that’ll depart slowly while at University..
I even dreamed of meeting my future husband to be..

But August 2, 2006 had other plans in mind; as it was the last time I saw my mommy alive.
Life changed so quickly then- she was buried on the 8th and I moved to Baltimore by the 10th.

I became a shell of who I used to be- no longer living in my perfect shaped fantasy.
It’ll be ten years in a couple of months, and every summer uninvited depression slowly comes.

I'd befriend the obsidian sky...
   I'd shower it with a bounty of praises.
  So that it'll welcome my nightly gaze,
     without threats from overbearing clouds.

     I'd impress the twinkling stars
       by serenading them with songs unheard by most.
     So that when the time comes,
  they'd cast their votes in my favour.

I'd whisper to the nighttime breeze.
   I'd cavort and giggle at its slightest touch.
      So that when I fly my flag,
   it'll catch it in full billows for her to see.

Then finally...
  I'd woo the twilight moon...
     For she is the prize
   my heart had sought to pursue.
    I'd court her
      with the fiercest blaze that burns within...
     In hopes that she'd forever
   remember me as the suitor that had
fallen helplessly.

I am the clown
In this town.

To where i am the center
Of their teasing
And jokes
As if they never see me
Frown.

All they see is my
Joker's hat,
That everything
They throw
At me
Never hurts.

I guess that's all i
Ever be...

Perhaps it's my fault
For letting them think
That way,
I never fight
A war between egos.

Silence and smiles
Are all i ever
Masked
Myself...

Hello
It's me again
It's the early hours and I'm slightly drunk
And it's me again

He has the sins of his mind
Which keep him warm inside
Amidst the weary and the wasted
Such warmth keeps him alive

Restless
I've always been restless
I hate to move yet I can't sit still
Hours are endless

There is a thrush inside his head
An agony of wings
Panic beaten thrashing
A cage of singing things

Anxious
Still always anxious
Even though I've slowed right down
This edge is ageless

Laying low and watching
A million sub-plots hatching
Paranoid and paranormal
He scatters to survive

                                    By Phil Roberts

I have been heedless
reckless in my need
for perpetual motion.

Hours, a blurred periphery
promises like blades
pointed down

in case I stumbled.

Once
I never knew you existed
You were not part of my world
And life was simple

Like a tornado of sensuality
You tore through my existence
Leaving a devastating
Desire in your wake

Your kiss was everything I imagined
And now .......

Nothing is simple

(C) Pixievic